Having left Merrill Airport about 1PM, I drove the three hour run back to Oshkosh. Camp Scholler had grown a bit more crowded than it was when I left it the previous Friday. I quickly aired out the RV, grabbed a cool drink from the fridge, and settled in for the evening. No sense in rushing things. I had two days before the convention officially began - yes, I think of Oshkosh as our convention, not just an airshow. Maybe I could make myself useful! For some reason, I had neglected to make contact with any of the convention chairpersons ahead of time, so I would just have to go find a job the old fashion way: trod about and ask.

Early on Monday, I took a peek at the flight line and saw no signs of any Hatz biplanes yet. So, off to the official "Volunteer Here" building by the Red Barn Store in Scholler.

"Hi! I'm available to work today. Anything needed?"

"I haven't got the list yet. It's too early and they haven't sent out the lists. You know they always do that..."

"Yeah, but..."

"...and it's the same thing every year! Never tell me anything! Why do you suppose they wait until the last minute?"

"Well, I..."

"Exactly! Can't organize a thing until the pressure's on! I know exactly what you mean! If only..."

"I... I'll check in with you later. Thanks anyway!"

Beating a hasty retreat, a pleasant thought came to mind that I at least owed myself one day of doing nothing. Today seemed like a good day to do just that! I assumed my not-so-secret identity of Airport Bum and forged on lazily.

As the convention approached, there was Hatz sign! Billy Dawson's 1997 Grand Champion took her rightful place of honor on the flightline. I helped the Makelan folks setup at bit, although I somehow timed my arrival just after they put their huge tent up. <whew!> It's never work if you WANT to do it, so spending time setting up their displays with them was just plain fun for me. I enjoyed helping out and being around these nice folks again.

By Wednesday, there were six Hatz biplanes on the flightline by my count. Dave Conrad was camping with his somewhere down in row One-Hundred-'n'-Away. I never did get that far to Fond du Lac to find him. Jim Hammond's Hatz was a bit closer, only about row 91 or so. I never did find him before he left the Convention. Hey, Jim! Thanks for bringing the lawn chair back!

At show center we had three aircraft, one from Canada by a gentleman I wasn't fortunate to meet, and Dale Sever's and Rick Hansen's brand new ones! They were parked on the same row and only one airplane apart. Both aircraft generated a LOT of interest!

Now, here in one spot, you could see two planes that followed the same building philosophy of "build it light and put an O-200 on the front". After that, they parted ways. Dale's plane was finished with a bright shine while Rick went for a flatter, antique look. Both aircraft had their fans flocking around them. But the general public went for the shiny, glossy finish of Dale's. I can tell you that Rick didn't mind at all. Recall that Rick Hansen's first Hatz, the Tizzy Lish, took Grand Champion honors at Oshkosh `85, so his trophy case was already well stocked. Plus, these two guys are the best of friends. Rick enjoyed seeing Dale's plane getting so much attention as much as Dale did! And attract attention it did! An interview for Sport Aviation magazine, a photo shoot including air-to-air out over the lake, an invitation to join in the Homebuilder's Showcase fly-by, and then Dale received the invitation to the Awards Ceremony! Take my word for it, this Hatz was noticed! But don't think that Rick got off the hook either. The judges were all over his plane too. If he hadn't had to leave early, he would have discovered something that Dale and I learned later!

On Monday, the Hatz Forum was held. I arrived just before it started, only to be told by the American Hatz Association folks that I would be speaking. I hadn't planned to say anything. In fact, I didn't realize anyone would want to HEAR me say anything. Sylvia explained it to me.

"You go up right after Jeff."

"Hm?"

"After Jeff. Then you speak."

"Um... okay."

The intricate decision-making process that goes on inside my head during times like this can be broken down into three main concepts against which fast decisions are made.

1.> Will it hurt?
2.> Will it cost me money? (see #1)
3.> Can I eat it?

Three "no's" equals a shrug and an "Um, okay". I would speak. For a no, no, and a yes, you get the same decision, but with enthusiasm.

While Jeff Shoemake and Billy Dawson spoke, I quickly formulated what could best be described as a sparkling description of the web page and what I hoped to do with it over the next months and years. I would captivate my audience with spellbinding stories of how the site got started and how it grew into what it is today. Toss in a couple of riveting, personal stories and I somehow just knew that not only would every person then in attendance burst into enthusiastic applause, but we would surely draw crowds from the surrounding forum tents, shaming Rod Machado into embarrassed envy!

But then, for some reason as I stepped up onto the stage, my mind made the strategic decision to abandon the original plan and instead go with Plan-B: Sound like a complete moron.

I hemmed and hawed aimlessly for about four minutes without giving anyone who had not visited the site reason to do so and probably convincing those folks who regularly visit that it may have been a grievous error on their part. I was convinced that the polite applause I heard on the way off the stage was provided because I was doing just that!

Well, maybe next year.

Monday night and time for the Awards Ceremony. The beautiful weather had suddenly changed and the rains came periodically. I joined Dale to support my friend and was just as excited about the whole thing! Fortunately, only Dale had to be nervous. All I had to do was sit still and keep him company.

"Do I have to say something?"

"I dunno."

"Where do I go after I get it?"

"I dunno."

"Pictures! I forgot my camera!"

"Got mine."

"Who's this guy?"

"I dunno."

"Oh, look! They show pictures of the plane! Where was that one?"

"I dunno."

Yes, I was a fountain of knowledge for Dale, answering his every question. We stared intently as all of the plaques were given away. So much for the Workmanship Awards and such. That left the Lindys.

"Hoo, boy!"

"Yep."

"How long do these guys sing?"

"I dunno."

It seemed like forever, but the entertainment finally ended and the Awards Chairman strolled back out the stage.

If you've never been to one of these things in Theater In the Woods, let me see if I can describe it well enough for you.

Imagine a large, open-air pavilion and stage. All around you are large and small TV monitors that show what you're looking at on the stage, only in close-up. There are at least two cameras, so they fade and cut between cameras, probably just to keep everyone guessing where on stage the camera is pointed now! But the neat thing about all this equipment is that, when a winning aircraft is announced, they show a quick slideshow of the aircraft on the monitors. Very classy deal! If an aircraft had left the Convention too early to be photographed, they either show a picture of the "Oshkosh Ghost" - the outline on the grass left behind - or they show the tail of the Concorde or some such thing. This always brings a laugh when they've announced a Taylorcraft or Pietenpol or whatever. So, on and on the awards go out. All of Dale's questions about what he should do and when were answered as we watched winner after winner take to the stage like old pros!

Suddenly, the monitors show Dale's embroidered leather hatch cover in the front hole! We both sit up. Then the picture switched to a full shot of his plane! I turn to Dale and he's already on his feet! They call his plane and his name and I gotta move fast because he's comin' through!

Now, I'm over six feet tall and Dale's....not. But, I swear he was standing taller than me as he walked toward the stage. Like Aunt Mildred at the school play, I ran to the front of the stage and started taking pictures as fast as I could shoot and advance the film. The gentleman handing Dale his bronze Lindy for Champion Plans-Built Aircraft saw me and graciously turned Dale to pose with him for me. I fought the urge to yell out "Yeah, DALE!" I had a hunch that if I had, they would have called off the rest of the ceremony and sent everyone home. I couldn't take that chance.

Returning to our seats, Dale let me hold the Lindy... once... not too long... that's enough. Those things are HEAVY!

Mental note #4378: Fix weak bookcase shelf by time Hatz is done... just in case.

Then suddenly, there was Rick's Hatz on the monitors! He won a bronze Lindy too! Both of us were immensely please for him, but neither one of us knew whether we should go up and accept it for him! Taking our cue from crickets and small, furry animals, we remained quietly in the darkness while Rick's Lindy was carried off stage to be shipped to him. Sorry, Rick! Yep, we be wimpy wienies.

By 9:30, every Lindy was given and the show was over. We collected our chairs, as per the host's request, and left. Walking with Dale a bit, I couldn't help but feel good about everything that had happened over the last two weeks, leading up to this evening. The reunion in Merrill, the fun and activity of Oshkosh, the Hatz Forum, the attention the Hatz biplanes were getting, and both guys winning Lindys. It was all perfect!

Dale was on his cellphone, calling home with the news. The excitement in his voice and the obvious joy coming back from his family on the other end only helped to make the moment that much more enjoyable. Wishing Dale a good night, he returned to his room and I returned to the RV.

Walking through the camp ground on such a perfect night, watching the campfires and the folks gathered around them on the last night of AirVenture `98, I just didn't want to turn in. I grabbed a cool one out of the fridge and went for an extended walk.

The night was warm as I traveled throughout Camp Scholler. Paul's Wood has a certain magic to it on the last night. The atmosphere there is unlike any I've known anywhere. Maybe it's just my imagination, but this is Oshkosh and, well, `nuff said.

I eventually found myself walking out along the West Ramp to the flightline. About 10:00, I watched a C-141 take-off. Alone, in the dark, the whole place seemed too peaceful for words. There's something about an airport at night. Unfortunately, there's also something about squall lines that find people out in the middle of those airports when they suddenly show up! The sky opened up and it started to pour! It rained and rained and didn't stop all that night. I took on the appearance of a drowning man as I slowly walked back to the RV. But, you know, I didn't mind the rain a bit.

Post-script: The rains continued for over a week. Dale, like so many others, had to leave his award-winning, open-cockpit aircraft on the field at Oshkosh until the weather improved. It was surely one of the toughest things he's ever done. But his plane is now back in it's hangar, along with Rick's.

Two Hatz biplanes, two Lindys, two friends.

That's a good score.